macabre fairytales
by billiespiper
Summary: My, what big eyes you have!
1. secret admirer

**title:** macabre fairytales

**summary: **My, what big eyes you have!

**rating: **VERY STRONG T

-NOT FOR KIDS UNDER 13-

**a/n: **okay so this is so weird and graphic and OOC. i'm so sorry for this godawful mess. ps, this is a chapter fic -le horror-

(established Tandré and Beck/Jade, but so many pairings)

**robbie**

A cream of mushroom soup wavers in Robbie's vision. He glances away, then back to the bowl. Still unappetizing. Hunger claws at his insides, but he can't bring himself to lift the spoon to his lips. His tongue slips out of his mouth and slides across his cracked lips, trying to ignore the dull, monotonous thudding coming from both temples. His jaw aches something fiercely due to the constant grinding of his teeth. And he still can't get that retched image out of his mind.

Victoria Anne Vega bent over the toilet bowl, tangles of long brown hair clinging to the porcelain. Her face was screwed up tight, partially because of the awful smell and partially because of the bitter taste in her mouth. In the quiet air of the bathroom, he can only hear their hearts, beating erratically. When Rex finally clatters to the floor, circulation lost in Robbie's hand, Tori spins around, shock painted across her face.

"Robbie!" She shouts, almost accusing. "What are you doing here, _freak_?" Robbie frowns at her harsh words. Tori Vega is sweet and confused and innocent. Not an obnoxious bitch with an eating disorder.

Still, it's hard to be mad at her when her voice quivers and her eyes shine with tears.

"I was just-"

"This is the _girls_ bathroom." She points out, pushing herself off the floor with a maladroit movement.

"I know, but I heard-"

"You heard what?" Tori cuts in sharply, eyes glinting dangerously.

"Y-You, in here. V-vomiting. I was worried so I-"

"Just forget about it, okay? You never saw me."

But he did. he did see her and that's what counts, right?

There's soup in front of him, he knows that, he really does. But the only thing he can see is regurgitated remains floating in a toilet bowl. Cringing lightly at the thought, Robbie places his spoon down carefully, precisely, and sets Rex next to it, perfectly aligned.

"Hey," A soft voice sounds at his left ear. He thinks it's funny that her voice is still singing even when her words don't rhyme.

"Hi. Tori, Hey." He's so flustered, tripping over simple letters and cheeks flaming red.

_Real cool, Robbie. Real suave_.

Tori laughs once, just once. It sounds like a fountain, gurgling and light. Just the sound of her melodious laugh makes the memories flood back.

(_how can she laugh with bile stinging her throat, and nail scrapings lining her esophagus?_)

"About yesterday." She begins, closing a piece of her bottom lip around two teeth, gnawing at the soft pink skin. "I'm sorry for being a bitch. I just… sorry, okay?"

Robbie thinks it's funny that she's apologizing for having a mental disease.

"Don't worry, Tori. I won't tell anyone, promise." Tori measures him with her suddenly razor sharp eyes. They drift up and down his body, narrowing dangerously.

"You'd better not." She warns, malice slipping back into her voice. "Because, then, I'd have to do some very bad things to you, Robbie."

Robbie wants to laugh, but oh god is she serious? A hand lands on his forearm, tightening her fingers and digging her nails in until he whimpers in pain.

She jolts, confusion and surprise flickering across her features. Tori's eyes widen briefly before she releases her grip on Robbie's arm and lifts herself from the seat.

"God, I- Robbie, I'm so so sorry, I have to- I can't-"

She stammers and stutters until finally she runs away, curls of hair flying behind her.

Sliding the sleeve of his shirt up, he examines the red marks of where her fingers dug into his skin.

**.&.**

"André!" Robbie's voice hits the empty walls as he calls out for his friend. The hallways are devoid of students, yet anxiety twists his stomach in knots as he looks out for Tori. He hasn't seen her since lunch, but still, he can feel the hairs on the back of his neck pricking in alarm. His friend (_friend?_) turns to him, an easy smile slipping across his lips.

"Hey man. What's up?" Rex's big fat jaw starts to open, but Robbie slaps a hand across his lips.

"I have to talk to you. About Tori."

His easy going expression quickly morphs into a worried one, mixed with foreboding and slight fear. Just the sight of his concerned face makes Robbie's stomach churn.

"What about Tori?" A defensive, protective edge makes it's way into his voice. I mean, it's his girlfriend we're talking about. Robbie's sure Beck speaks the same when someone starts ranting about Jade.

"She's- I think she's-"

"She's what, Shapiro? Spit it out." André's hands clench into fists, leaving white half-moon shapes on his palms.

"I saw her-"

"André!" Tori rounds the corner, chipper as usual. Her shoulders are up high and there's a bounce in her step, but Robbie catches the withering glare she sends his way.

Fuck. She's heard him.

"Hey, Tor." André nods at Robbie, in a sort of _tell-me-later_ way.

"Would you mind bringing my books to class?" Her bottom lip pushes forward into a puppy dog pout, eyes wide and hopeful. "I just have to use the bathroom."

"Sure thing." He takes the textbooks from her grip and kisses her cheek. "See you soon."

"Thank you!" She calls after him sweetly.

When his footsteps disappear, Tori grabs Robbie's shoulders suddenly, throwing him into the wall with one violent movement. His face slams against the lockers, nose smashing into metal. With a groan, Rex falls to the floor again. Lacing her fingers into his bushy hair, Tori lifts his face up and slams it back against the lockers. Leaning down until her mouth is at his cheek, she stays silent for a full minute. Then, she whispers;

"Bad mistake, Robbie."

Against the shell of his ear. Her breath tickles his skin, and he squirms in her grip. Tori bangs his head once more against the wall, then releases him.

"You're going to fucking pay for that." She hisses, but Robbie notices her fingers trembling. Adrenaline courses through his veins, but when she leaves, all that remains of him is a shaking, stuttering mess.

**.&.**

The screech of fork and knife against a porcelain plate sends racking shivers down Robbie's spine. His father, opposite him at the table, chews the roast beef. Robbie hasn't the heart to tell him there's a chunk of meat in his mustache.

"Robert. How's your….er, Venice High, was it?"

Robbie sighs, shoulders slumping.

"Hollywood Arts, dad." Mr. Shapiro takes his fork and points at Robbie, nodding.

"That's it."

"How was school, dear?" His mother, a skinny horse-faced woman with coarse black hair, fiddles with her napkin.

"It was fine. May I be excused?" Mrs. Shapiro sighs, and Mr. Shapiro chews another bite of beef.

"Yes, dear."

After scraping his plate into the kitchen trash, Robbie lets his plate clatter to the sink with a horrible crash. He walks slowly up the stairs, gears in his brain not really processing anything but Tori. Her bulimia was just half of it. Her wild mood swings however- that worried him more deeply. Red welts are still embedded into his skin. Wincing tenderly, he ghosts his fingertips over the crescent shaped nail marks dotting his arm.

Falling onto his bed, he tangles a few of his fingers in his hair absentmindedly, apparently attempting to rip it out of his skull. Robbie just can't wrap his mind around Tori's attitude. It wasn't her period or anything, this was completely different. She was violent, malicious. Terrifying. And everybody who knows Tori knows that violent, malicious and terrifying are not adjectives used in the same sentence as her name. But this Tori, this one he's seen a shadow of at lunch and met briefly in the hallway, frightens him. Her hatred-filled eyes still loomed in his vision, and a shiver wracks his body. For once, Rex doesn't have anything to say. He sits, mute, next to Robbie on the bed. Robbie grips him by his waist and pulls him into his lap. Almost instantly, a flood of relief washes over his body. His previously constricted chest relaxes and he slumps against the headboard.

However, his happiness is short lived. A sharp pain jabs into his side, and Robbie realizes with a start that Tori is pressed up against him, fingernails clenching yet again around his wrists and bringing them up above his head. She shifts slightly so that one hand is holding two wrists, and uses her free hand to slap a slab of metallic gray duct tape across his pink lips. Robbie screams, but only a muffled noise is heard as he strains to speak against the tape.

"Shh," She coos softly into his ear. "You've been a bad, bad boy, Robbie. You almost told. Tsk, tsk. You shouldn't have tried to help. Really." The absolute malice in her voice chills him to the core, and he twists away from her struggling underneath her surprisingly powerful grip.

"You know what I have to do, right? I told you not to tell. I _told_ you, Robbie. I _told _you. Well, now, I'm going to-" Tori's voice drops an octave, bringing her lips right up to his ear. "-cut out your voicebox."

She laughs, tossing her head back. Her sick, twisted idea seems to amuse her because she keeps laughing, covering choked giggles with a dainty hand.

"You won't be able to tell, then, will you? Will you, Shapiro?" That dangerous looks slips back into her eyes, and then her fingers are around his throat. She tightens them, smirking when he squirms desperately under her grip.

"Mmph, T-rri." Robbie's voice is silenced and distorted under the duct tape. His vision swims as air stops flowing through his lungs. A panicky feeling grips his chest, but then the pressure is gone and he can breathe again. Panting, Robbie places his hands on the bed sheet, twisting them in an attempt to calm down. He still can't move under Tori's surprisingly strong grip.

"Tori, what's-" She slaps him, hard, across the face.

"Shut up!" She screeches, and when a slab of moonlight illuminates her face, Robbie can see Tori's eyes glistening. "Stop fucking talking, Robbie." Another glint catches his eyes, but before he can move, the cool edge of a knife is pressed against his Adam's Apple.

"It'll only hurt a little," She promises. Robbie's still flailing but _fuck_, she's strong. The knife jerks along his throat, leaving a white trail. Her fingers tremble haphazardly around the handle, and she finally splits the skin. A hot dribble of blood trickles slowly down his neck, creeping towards his shirt. The sight of blood nauseates Tori, but motivates her at the same time. Closing her eyes tightly, she digs her knife into the hollow of his throat. More fire dances across his skin, and he tries to buck his hips up in order to throw her off. However, it has the opposite effect, enraging her, and she lifts the knife up high above her head before bringing it down into his chest in one fluid moment. His body jerks once, blood oozing from the deep gash across his skin, but then falls, drained. Tori leans down, shaking, and runs her trembling fingertips across his face. Then, she presses her lips to his for a second. His mouth is salty from the blood she's smeared, so she gets up clumsily and wraps his own fingers around the black handle of her knife.

She leaves the suicide note pinned to Rex.


	2. star crossed

**tori**

An empty throbbing from her temples wakes Tori up. The sky outside is still dark, street devoid of any cars or people. Her alarm clock wouldn't ring for another three hours. Through spiky, clumped eyelashes, she can just make out the slowly rotating mobile hanging above her head. Three golden stars of different sizes, all reflecting glitter onto the walls. A sliver of pale yellow streetlight floods her room, catching on the metallic colors and giving them a glow. Stray, unglued sparkles drift lazily to the floor, coating Tori's bed in a scattered mess of gold.

Remembering the terror in Robbie's eyes makes a lump in the pit of her empty stomach. Everything aches, from the pounding hunger to the sharp sting of her skin being stretched tight across her pronounced rib bones. With a resigned sigh, Tori swings her legs over the side of her bed and leans onto the sore balls of her feet, arching her heels off the ground. From the room next to hers, Tori can hear long, loud snores emitting from her sister's bedroom. With a slight eye roll, she pads to the doorway, fingers pausing to clench tightly around the frigid knob until her knuckles turn white. Tori stays there, eyes moving in and out of focus as she stares at her painted fingernails, digging into metal. The quiet _ticktick_ of her bedroom clock is the only sound as Tori twists the doorknob, rotating three hundred and sixty degrees before popping the door open quietly.

The hallway is dark, looming in front of her like the black sky outside. Her robe drags on the floor, and she draws it up and over her bare shoulders. Tori's spaghetti strap nightgown falls to her mid-thigh, and she unconsciously yanks it down.

_As if. You little whore._ The whiny little voice inside her head giggles. Tori frowns down at her bare feet. It's back. She hasn't heard it for three days, but now it's back. It's going to be stronger now, it's going to tell her to do things.

_Stick your finger down your throat. Fat. You want to be skinny, don't you? You're a worthless little maggot. Do you think any of your friends would miss you if you emptied that bottle of sleeping pills into your palm and swallowed them all? That's a hundred calories, Tori. A hundred calories = thirty minutes on the Stair Master. A hundred calories = seventy nine crunches. You should __drown__ yourself in your scalding hot bath water. Let the steaming bubbles peel away your skin and exfoliate you. Everyone will see the baby, the __**bitch**__ underneath. _

Tori cringes against the steady stream of words pulsing across her forehead, crawling through her brain. Reaching the bathroom at the end of the hall, Tori pushes the door open to reveal a stark white bathroom. The shining, bleached walls blare into her eyes, and it takes a moment for her to adjust to the sudden change in lighting. She blinks away the glare of the florescent lights and takes her place in front of the bathroom mirror, pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear.

Mirror-Tori glares at her, eyes narrowing until her eyelashes flutter together.

_uglybitchassslut_

Real-Tori frowns, cocks her head in that adorably confused way.

_what do you mean?_

A smirk, a callous laugh. It takes a second for Tori to realize that it's coming from _her, _Real-Tori.

_you're a stupid, dumb bitch. that's what i mean._

Squeezing her eyes together, Tori grinds her bottom row of teeth into her upper lip. goaway goaway goaway goaway goaway goaway goaway goaway goaway goaway.

When her eyes open, Real-Tori has returned, smiling, sunny and bright.

But that tinny little voice whines in the back of her head, bitter and cruel and harsh.

_just shut up already_. But multi colored pills and clear, liquid filled syringes won't make that insistent whisper go away.

**.&.**

"Hey, where's Robbie?" Cat leans forward to twirl a piece of hair around her finger, popping her spearmint gum lightly.

The question makes Tori's heartbeat pick up, pulse against the skin on her wrist. Blood pumps fasterandfaster through her veins. They can tell, they can tell. They can tell I killed him, they can tell.

"Probably sick." André shrugs, tracing the length of his plastic fork. His arm is wrapped around Tori, and he can feel her tremble underneath him.

"What's wrong?" He asks innocently, tightening his grip a little. Jade blinks curiously at her from Beck's side.

"Nothing! Why would something be wrong, I'm fine!" Her voice rises an octave, and everyone at the table turns to stare at her.

"You don't _sound_ fine." Cat accuses halfheartedly.

"I am, though!"

Beck slings his arm over Jade as he begins talking, like it's the simplest thing in the world.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"Why would _you_ care?" Jade hisses, mouth pursed tight. Beck chuckles.

"Dude-"

"Don't _dude_ me!"

And thus, the lunchtime blurs into their typical day, and everyone has forgotten about pale faced Tori, with eyes as wide as dinner plates.

**.&.**

The bell rings in it's unique little jingle. Tori hears it, but her feet stay rooted to the ground. She runs her fingers down the ridges of her locker, where paint has created an uneven texture (_make it shine, tori. shine a little harder, act/sing/dance a little better_). Finally, after the last stragglers have gone to class, Tori pulls her textbook out of it's shelf. She unzips her neon yellow Jansport and pushes it in, walking towards sixth period history. Her heeled boots click against the blue linoleum, her own personal soundtrack. clickclackclickclackclick.

"No, I've _told_ you, he can't- Yes, he's going to _tell_. No, shut up, I hired you. You little rat, you can't weasel yourself out of this! I've already paid you to kill- I don't care if it hurts your goddamn conscience! Look, Rory is going to be dead by next Wednesday, you hear me? I _said_ do you hear me? Good. Listen, Gabe, I've met you're daughter. Anastasia, right? She was very adorable, very adorable indeed. You wouldn't want something to happen to her, right? That's what I thought. Yes. We have a deal? You kill Rory and I don't touch Anastasia? Good."

Tori purses her lips, eyebrows diving into a V. Her mouth suddenly feels dry, tongue too large. Her heartbeat picks up, a steady bumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbump-

"Tori?"

André swings around the corner, brushing a dread lock from his clammy forehead. Tori flings her arms around his neck, pushing her face into his neck.

"André! You'll never guess what I h-" Tori stops when she notices André slipping a phone into his back pocket.

_click. snap. _

Everything falls into place.

"What?" André asks innocently, although his eyes narrow slightly.

"Nothing!" Her voice squeaks, and the bone chilling glare André gives her is proof enough. _he knows i know._

"Let's get to class, Tor." She can feel her jaw clench, head getting dizzy as the nerves climb, slowly.

"André, it wasn't y-" André digs his fingertips into her forearm, eyes boring into hers.

"I _don't_ know what you're talking about, _Tori_." He hisses her name like a curse. Tori watches André measuredly, taking in his coiled muscles and livid eyes. She opens her mouth quietly, then closes it, sealing her mouth by closing her bottom row of teeth onto her top lip.

He guides her to class, nails still making imprints in her tan skin.

**.&.**

A clicking noise resonates on the desk, _tap tap tap_. Jade, at her right, scowls at her.

"Can you cut that out?" She hisses, disdain written across her face. Tori huffs a little and slumps her shoulders, in a very Cat-like manner. Jade rolls her eyes before running her fingers through her bangs. Jade pushes her tongue against her two front teeth before shifting to face Tori.

The teacher has his head bent over a book, fingers skimming the ink spilled across the page. His spectacle half-moon glasses slip down the bridge of his nose, resting at the tip. The quiet buzz of study hall fills the room, pens squeak against paper and gossipers lean over chairs to spread the latest news.

"_What_, Tori?"

Tori swallows, throat dry and scratchy.

"What if you found out something about someone you loved? And you couldn't tell anyone? But it was like- really secret. And could possibly be- I don't really know how to describe it." Tori rambles on, staring straight at her math notebook, open to a page with scribbles, numbers and shapes.

Jade lets her head drop before looking back up at Tori.

"Look, if this is about André's _size_, the same thing happened with me and Beck. Except, you know-" Jade cuts off, laughs. "It wasn't embarrassing for either of us, if you know what I mean."

Tori flushes scarlet, cheeks burning.

"Jade! No, god, no!" Jade sobers up, the smirk gone from her lips.

"Don't tell me you're a virgin, Ms. Vega." Tori chews on the corner of her lips, looking at Jade shamefully. She snickers once before bursting into gales of laughter.

"Oh that is _too_ good." Tori smacks Jade's arm with the back of her hand. "Especially with _André._"

Tori blinks innocently at Jade.

"What's that supposed to mean, with André?" Jade arches her eyebrows at Tori and cocks her head, a risqué, knowing smile playing with her lips.

"He isn't exactly the hardest to get into bed, Tori. He's slept with half the junior class." Tori lets her mouth fall agape, blinks and then inclines her head towards Jade.

"Oh." She lifts her pencil up to her lips and pushes the pink eraser tip past her lips and teeth, closing her jaw around it and chewing.

Jade begins to say something, then stops, and returns to her English paper.

**.&.**

The crisp fall breeze blows the hair from Tori's face. She crosses the parking lot on tottering heels, body aching from hours of dancing practice. She wraps her navy blue sweater tighter around her shoulders, slipping the buttons in their slits. The hollow _clack_ of her stilettos hitting the gravel fills the lot, becoming the only sound for the quiet night.

"Tor-ay! Wait up!" Tori twists to see André jogging behind her, a messenger bag slung loosely over his shoulder. She stops, and waits for him to reach her, but her heartbeat picks up a little faster,

_(they're alone and he sounded really scary what if)_

she pushes the thought to the back of her mind, for the brain-maggots to feast on later.

André's eyes smolder underneath his omnipresent friendly gaze. When he finally catches up to his girlfriend, he smiles at her, slinging an arm easily around her shoulder.

"You should sleep over tonight." He begins bluntly. Tori screws her face up tight.

"My parents wouldn't- I don't think it's a good-"

"Tori." His glare frosts her from within. "Just tell them you have to do a project with Cat."

"I- okay, I guess."

It's just, this is _André_, we're talking about. He'd never hurt her- he loves her. Right?

She hands him the keys to her car, and he shoves it roughly into the keyhole with an anger she's never seen before. Tori listens for the click of the passenger door unlocking before she pulls at the door handle. She shimmies into the seat and stares blankly ahead of her, face emotionless. Inside though, everything jitters around. No, André would never hurt her. Never ever ever. I mean- he wouldn't. He just- right?

It sounds unconvincing, even in her own mind. André's jaw is clenched tight, knuckles turning red around the steering wheel.

Looks like payback time.

**.&.**

When André leads her into the house, muscles coiled tight, all Tori can think is _Robbie_.

When André makes her dinner and kisses her roughly, all Tori can think is _Robbie_.

And most of all, when André clutches the pillow in his lap tightly, Tori just thinks that this is payback for _RobbieRobbieRobbie_.

He leans in close to her and presses his lips lightly against hers.

"I love you Tori. So fucking much. You're amazing, you know that, right?" Tori's hand searches for André's in the darkness, she threads her fingers through his.

"I love you too, babe. Thank you."

His grip is becoming increasingly painful on her hand.

"I really do love you."

She glances up at him, but can't make out his features in the darkness.

"Uh, I do too." André brushes back some of her hair and closes his eyes for a moment.

"I'm so sorry, baby." Tori glances at him.

"Sorry for what?" He just shakes his head.

"Nothing."

**.&.**

She's woken up by something cutting off her breath. Tori tries to inhale, but it's blocked by fabric pressed hard against her face. It only takes a second for it to click into place.

"André!" Her scream is muffled against the pillow. With every second she doesn't breathe, Tori can feel her vision blur a little more. André's crying above her, pressing the pillow harder and harder against her lips.

"I just- you heard me. I couldn't let you- I'm so sorry, Tori. I love you. I love you so much." Little black spots begin popping up, her lungs aflame.

Quiet comes first. Then, she can't see. Finally, the burning is removed from her chest and she finds she doesn't need to breathe.

André kisses her cold lips and picks her up bridal style. He leads her out to his backyard and sets her to the floor. He rests his head against hers briefly before dousing her body with gasoline and lighting a match.

Her burning body is beautiful. The flames flicker up her skin, eating away at her hair until it's crisp and barely there.

André sits down and tangles his fingers in the grass.

_love you_.

**.&.**

**this sucks to the degree. what am i even doing. i like the beginning of this chapter but it just like spiraled very quickly. i am sorry for this mess. just so you know the chapters are going to be, in order-**

**one- robbie**

**two- tori**

**three- andre**

**four- jade**

**and the rest is a mystery so you'll see then :)**


End file.
